Atlas: A Study of Amok Time
by Way Walker
Summary: The events of the episode Amok Time before and after Kirk waking up in sickbay after his fight with Spock on Vulcan. Kirk's point of view. Missing scenes. Can be read alone or as a sequel to my other story Death by a Friend's Hand.


Author Note: This can be read as a one shot or can be read as a sequel to my other Star Trek fiction Death by a Friend's Hand. Enjoy.

I remember everything; Spock's strange behaviour, McCoy's medical findings, my decision to instruct Chekov to plot a course to the planet Vulcan instead of obeying Starfleet orders, as a result of my previous confrontation with the for mentioned Vulcan in his personal quarters.

 _I touch the intercom and fiercely stride into Spock's rooms when the doors open a few seconds later. He immediately stiffens his posture and begins to stand up but I firmly wave him down. This, whatever is affecting him, needs to be resolved. This has become so much more than throwing soup bowls onto walls and shouting at cordial Nurses, this is now life or death. If it has to be a formal talk between a Starfleet Captain and his subordinate – not that I have ever thought Spock as that – in order to get some answers so be it. I inform him on McCoy's medical findings. He is not surprised. Not once does he look up at me but remains slumped over with his head down. I have never seen him like this, so defeated, so lost. Suddenly I am reminded of a very old Earth story, a Greek myth, about a man who was condemned by the God Zeus to hold up the sky. In this exact moment I forget the tragic man's name but it may as well have been Spock. Why will he not tell me what's wrong! Anger burns inside me, without thinking, I reach out and grab his arm, something I would never normally do, when he moves it towards his PADD. It shakes alarmingly, no way of hiding it from me._

 _The anger that flares in my veins is suddenly extinguished and is replaced by fear, real fear, when Spock pulls back his arm. I need to get control of myself; I tell him he is the best First Officer in Starfleet. "That's an enormous asset to me. If I had to lose that First Officer I want to know why." What I do not say is that I am losing a friend, hell a part of myself. I am inwardly glad that my emotions, ironically, remain controlled within my speech, I put on my best command voice; one of us needs to be level headed._

 _I know that talking to him this way, in an official capacity, works when he walks away and begins to tell me what "no out worlder may know." I would count this as progress but he places his back towards me, a final shield between himself and the truth - Ashamed? Embarrassed? I cannot read him. I give him his space and stay where I am._

 _When Spock finally looks at me it's to ask me – not that is not true - pleads with me to understand but I do not. I say as much. I resolve not to leave this room until I do understand. "Explain. Consider that an order." Consider I say, but really it is an illusion of choice, I need him to tell me. If he will not tell me as his friend then he will to his commanding officer. I have not forgotten that although he does not remember it he has already gone behind my back and overridden my order to change the course of Enterprise back to Vulcan. That cannot happen. Enterprise and its crew need the First Officer that they have come to know and respect._

 _I move closer now towards him, mirroring his pose exactly, hands behind my back seemingly relaxed but far from it. Gold and Blue standing side by side. We will get through this together. I swear it. If only you would let me in I silently and mentally plea to Spock. Images unconsciously spring in my mind of the sea, the normally calm tide of clear reasons and tranquil logic is not before me today. Instead a whirlpool, someone struggling against the foaming tides without any aid – please let me help! I know now that I take for granted this composed presence and would do anything to ease this tide that he is wrestling within himself. Curse Starfleet regulations. I let go of being Captain James T Kirk of the Starship Enterprise. Here and now I am Jim, Spock's friend and so I ask -_

" _Would it help if I told you that I'll treat this as totally confidential?" Those seem to be the magic words as Spock meets my gaze for he knows that I can be stubborn, foolhardy and rash but I always keep my word._

" _It has to do with biology" Spock replies, although it is strained. It takes a few moments but I come to an understanding of Vulcan mating rituals, contrary to my voiced assumption that it was, as all things Vulcan, logical. It is also when I first hear the words:_

 _Pon Farr_

I ended that conversation with a promise –

" _I will get you to Vulcan somehow."_

When it became clear that diplomatic red tape and bureaucratic orders were going to come between me keeping that promise I knew what I had to do. I knew in my bones that it was not an option to obey them. No matter the cost to my career in Starfleet, something McCoy pointed out and did not let me overlook. However his warnings were given in vain when I ordered a course set for the planet Vulcan. I didn't care what disciplinary actions that might befall me – not when the alternative, the hard truth that it would be the death of my First Officer, the best in Starfleet. Ha! Like I care about that although it would be a huge loss to Starfleet but to me? It was a loss that chills me to the core, no, it will not happen! As I told Bones I owe Spock my life a dozen times, I will save his. I would pay any price. My life it seemed when I fought with Spock on the burning sands of his home world. I had lost that fight … He killed me … didn't he?

Death by a friend's hand.

I am brought back to the present when I feel the all too familiar pressure of a hypo spray on my neck and instinctively wince, even after all these years and my extensive medical history, I still despise these things. I swear Bones has great joy in my hatred of them. I open my eyes but quickly close them as bright lights burn through my head and I let out a painful hiss through my teeth.

"Wake up sleeping beauty. I'm a doctor not …" A voice utters before it is accompanied by another pressure on my neck, an additional hypo spray. I recognize the voice from anywhere.

"I don't know Bones. I think you could be someone's Prince Charming one day" I cut in. Opening my eyes fully I experience no pain from the bright lights this time. The effects of the medication from the good doctor no doubt – MEDICATION! A lightning bolt of clarity comes over me, banishing the fog that has until then clouded my memories. Bones gave me something on the surface of Vulcan. I grab onto this one certainty and snap my eyes onto the doctor.

"Do you remember now?" Bones asks, a small smile curling his lips. My silence must have been too long though as he leans away from the study of my face to the bio readers above the bed. Seemingly not satisfied in what he sees there he places his fingers expertly around my neck and wrists in what I recognize as an old fashioned medical technique he sometimes uses, as if not trusting the superior scientific technology before him. While he carries out his medical tests I gaze around the room, knowing it instantly, sickbay, I am in sickbay. I am on my ship. I am home.

I did not die on Vulcan. Continuing my observation of my surroundings I take note of the bio-beds, all empty except for my own, the doorway leading to McCoy's office and then I rest my eyes on the man himself, silently standing there waiting for me to finish my assessment of the room. The tension in his jaws relaxing and the stress lines around his eyes smooth out as he gives an audible sigh. Trusting the warm touch of my skin and the beating pulse he found there. We are alone.

"How could I forget your … unique features Bones" I reply to his previously voiced question, giving him my best dashing smile "not forgetting that lovely bed side manner you have." I grin, as I know this is not the answer he was looking for, before it turns into a grimace as I pull myself up from the bed and feel pain radiating on my chest and around my neck.

"I'll let that slide Jim. I must say even with my plan you took a hell of a beating down there," his eyes clouding with concern before quickly turning to anger. "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?"

I open my mouth to retort but not quickly enough –

"NOTHING that's what! You are a fine fighter. You are a master of god knows what martial arts and self-defence techniques and to me on the surface it looked like you weren't even trying. You train with Spock twice a week in the gym so you know his fighting style and how to counter it …"

"I'm sorry Bones. I don't know what else there is to say." Under my breath without thinking I add "I couldn't let it happen again. Especially to Spo -"

"Again?" Bones stops me clearly confused by my unwitting confession of my deepest fears.

I swallow painfully. I didn't mean to say that last bit out loud. I do not, no; I can't have this conversation now. I look down and use this moment to take note of the excessive bruises and injuries on my chest. These remind me of another mission that went so wrong, on another planet, when I fought a friend to the death, his death. "Gary." Please leave this alone Bones.

McCoy's shoulders suddenly slump, losing all ire and looking just as exhausted as I feel. "Ah Jim … I'm sorry I forgot about Gary. That was different."

"But…"

"Let me finish" he scold me, as if talking to a small child now and not the Captain of the Enterprise. "If I hadn't intervened during that damn ceremony …

"That stuff you gave me, what was ..." I begin to ask, hoping to change the subject onto less personal matters. Of course it does not work.

Bones waves away my question. "It was something that made you look dead. Jim…. You could have died for real. This crew would be without a Captain and a First Officer. More importantly I would have lost my best friends." He smiles shyly when I a raise a single eyebrow at him ( _it's not only Spock that can do that._ ) "Yes my _friends_! You heard right. Although if you tell him I said that I will put you on a diet for three months! I know you have a different relationship with Spock but did you ever think about me? What I would have gone through!" He rubs his neck and moves away from the bed his back towards me, just like Spock had done in his quarters. That conversation seems like it happened years ago now.

"I can't lose you Jim. One day you are going to get so hurt that all the hypo sprays, medicine and equipment in this tin can you call a Star Ship has to offer and medical knowledge that I have won't be enough. Every mission I worry it will be your last. This time it was too close. Ok? I know you. You put everyone before yourself. You would have died for him. You say that you can't lose another friend. I need you to know that I can't lose you." He turns to face me now, sincerity in his eyes. "OK?"

Without missing a beat I say "Ok." In that one word we both know we have made a promise to each other, cementing our friendship into something more. We are family to each other. I smile at him and this time it is real. "Leonard. I know I can count on you to watch my back."

Yes we are close but never before have we been so open about it, to put our feelings into spoken words. Before the moment becomes too awkward it is dispelled by the presence of Nurse Chapel as she walks in holding a clean Captain's uniform in her arms. "Spock has made contact with the ship. He is on board the Enterprise now. I believe he has gone to his quarters before coming to see you Doctor."

"Spock is coming here?" I ask Nurse Chapel.

"Yeah that same green blooded First Officer that threw a bowl of soup at Nurse Chapel's head here. The pointed eared Vulcan that …" I wave off Bone's familiar tirades, somethings will never change, as I get up from the bio bed, or I would have if my legs had not crumpled beneath me causing my knees to hit the cold med bay floor.

"Easy there Jim" Bones says as he and Chapel grab my arms to pull me back up onto the bed. "You might feel lighted headed still, the effect of the medication I gave you. I would normally keep you here overnight but with the day that both of us has had you can just rest in your quarters. I am signing you off duty. You have a couple of broken ribs, burns to your back, lacerations and bruises over your body most notably to your throat. Not to mentioned that you are dehydrated and suffering from exhaustion. You need to take it easy for a few days but there will be no lasting damage."

I listen to the doctor's assessment of my injuries and unconsciously relive each detail in my head. My heart begins to beat loudly in my chest sparking my fight or flight response. _Spock dragging my leg with a leather weapon, hot coals scorching my back, struggling to breathe as something is tied around my neck … Eyes that were now unrecognisable as they burnt with rage and insanity… Belonging to someone that I would die for … but I was dying … and he was the one killing me._ No it is not his fault. I curl my hands into fists trying to ground myself to the present. I am safe. It is over. I feel Bones squeezing my shoulder in comfort. He knows my injuries are not only physical but now was not the time to address them. Not when Spock thought I was dead and that he was the one that 'killed' me.

"Spock can't know. That's an order Bones." Bones let out a sigh and nods his head in agreement. He knows better than to argue with me over this. With Bone's and Nurse Chapel's help I wrestle into the undershirt and then the golden tunic befitting my station, a hiss escapes my lips as the rough fabric covers my chest and back. A painful reminder of events, ones that I know will heal and fade under the excellent care of Bones but the memory of this will take longer to settle in my mind. First Gary, now Spock. Who will be next I wonder. I shake these thoughts from my head that thinking will not do. Bones and Chapel leave the room when I assure them I can finish the rest of my uniform on my own.

I straighten my back and once more tug the shirt down, making sure that all evidence of my injuries are hidden in anticipation for the arrival of Spock. The best First Officer in Starfleet. My friend. Abruptly I remember the Greek myth of the man that held up the sky. The condemned man's name was Atlas. I had compared him to Spock but that was wrong. Spock is no tragic figure. He is the strongest person I have ever known and he is never alone. In this moment I know that in my own little corner of the galaxy, this ship, my home, it takes three to hold up the sky. We are stronger together and nothing will ever break us apart. Not now, not ever.

I hear the door to the sickbay opening and a figure enters.

Showtime.

Author Note: Thank you for reading my fic, I would love to know what you think so please review.


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